Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Author’s Note: Do not feel the need to go back and read the first part Daddy’s Poker Chip. This story is self-contained. That said, if you like this story, you’ll probably like the first installment. Thank you to fans of the first story whose comments of the past three years forced me to think of another chapter. Hopefully I haven’t jumped the shark.
My dad definitely forgot I was coming home from college.
Honestly, at times of late, it felt like he’d forgotten me entirely.
But I knew exactly what he was doing, hunched over his computer, his hand moving down inside his pants.
But first, let me give my own confession. College felt exactly like high school all over again, only worse. I was the eldest, the only girl with three brothers. Suffice it to say, I had a special pull with my dad. We had been close, I guess I should have expected that to change after moving three hours away. But at first it didn’t…
Of late he seemed distracted, distance, as though trying to force some space between our usually close connection.
Maybe he just wanted me to grow up and stop being such a Daddy’s girl.
But I did not belong at St. Francis. I know there’s a stereotype about the way Catholic girls misbehave, I guess it’s just my luck to have never made friends with any of those. My friends and teammates at the women’s college would have been mortified at some of the more perverted thoughts running through my head or at some of my own desperate actions.
I’d remained pure, but only in a technical way. My favorite method for release was to place pictures of myself online. I used different adult amateur sites and gushed when comments and catcalls came pouring into my throwaway email. I had the body, tall, long legs, straight dark brunette hair, curvy in the right ways. I usually wear a 38 DD bra that never seemed to fit quite right. I could spend a few hours posting photos on a Friday night, masturbating with one hand, the other trying to respond to some random guy in a chat room.
There was something about it that built my confidence in a profound way. I know every girl is probably a little insecure about their tits, maybe with the exception of Katie Perry, who doesn’t mind letting even Elmo take a look. But a lot of the focus seems directed at the girl who wish their boobies were bigger. Girls who develop larger naturally often find themselves the center of attention because of their most awkward feature.
Like a lot of girls, I became then remained paranoid that my boobs were a mirage, only slightly better than those who stuffed their bra. I worried (even at 19) about them looking saggy or droopy, about the swelling size of my nipples, about the contrast between the cleavage I saw in magazines and movies compared to my own naked body in front of the mirror.
Intellectually, I knew that even while Sophia Vergara paraded around the set of Modern Family, she also depended on a bra to stop the slope of gravity. But try using logic alone to fight teenage insecurities. It didn’t help that in our rigid faith, pounded into my brain through decades of Catholic school, the first time my future husband would see me naked was after our wedding.
Would he be stuck pretending to like what was in front of him?
I don’t want to complain – my confidence has been growing. But because of the wrong reasons. I became obsessed with my online persona, getting bolder with every week. Still, I kept myself in check, hiding my face through strategic photos. I started with just risque photos, progressing to bare topless images. There were dozens of pictures of me with my legs spread apart, my vibrator inserted, even a gif of the action as I pushed it in and out.
My favorite one went on my profile. My long dark hair tied into an innocent-looking ponytail, one hand pulling on my plaid skirt, showing just the half moon of my heart-shaped ass. I twisted so that the side of my right breast and nipple were also on display, my head down so that no one could ever identify me.
The rush of posting increased with each like and comment. I wanted more, and yet so many things held me back from meeting up with any of the desperate horny guys begging to make my acquaintance.
Worse, there was no one I could talk to about this. I certainly couldn’t confess to the priest, and my friends were all prudes. If I opened my mouth, there was the very real possibility of riding in a seat all by myself to every volleyball game. And truthfully, the scholarship was the only thing that kept me going.
Suffice it to say, I was glad to spend Spring Break away from campus. Even if it meant putting up with the crassness of my three teenage brothers, or dealing with the drama that always accompanied my mother on vacation. Admittedly, I forgot to text that I was on my way, but that really shouldn’t have mattered. I honestly didn’t think anyone would be home. After all my dad was supposed to be at work, so I didn’t even bother announcing myself. I had my bag in one hand, walking into my old room, which I knew güvenilir bahis Dad had transformed into his own man cave.
I walked in, the door wide open. He sat at the desk, a laptop on the desk, his hands down his pants. My eyes went to the screen, where a petite blonde girl.
“Stand up, baby girl.” I hear the speakers say.
The camera showed the streaks of cum dripping down onto a blonde haired girl with small tits, who looked a little like my cousin. Actually, a lot like my cousin. But before I could think too much about it or even get a good look at the tiny screen, I heard my father unbuckling his belt, pulling out his dick. At first, I can barely see more than the large mushroom head, his hand covers the rest.
I know I should say something. Announce myself or at least cough, but my eyes are glued to the first penis I’ve ever seen in person. It’s huge. I’m no expert, but pretty much every man who sees my photos on the internet thinks that seeing a picture of their dick will convince me to fuck them. Sometimes they aren’t even very impressive, but Daddy – I mean my Dad certainly is imposing. He’s already completely hard, and nearly completely outside his jeans his hand barely covers half of it.
“Bend over, spread that ass open for Daddy.”
Though my mind hovered at the edge of the perverse, I knew from the internet that a lot of girls called their man Daddy. I also knew from pornhub the new prevalence of naughty step-daughter and step-sister videos. I wondered if my barely techno-literate Dad had just discovered the genre. Maybe his newfound fetish led to some understandable awkwardness with his nineteen year old daughter, explaining his recent distance.
On the laptop, the camera zooms in on the cum leaking out from the petite girl’s asshole. She bends over further and the lips of her pussy part, leaking more cum, clearly from being freshly fucked. It’s extremely kinky, only not at all professional quality. It looked like something shot on an iPhone, fuzzy and hard to make out.
My father adjusted again, trying to pull down the rest of his pants. I don’t know what’s come over me. There’s fight, there’s flight, why does no one talk about the last response, standing in stunned silence waiting for the brain to work?
And there was that dick, the closest I’d ever been to a man’s body. I watched, fascinated by his slow stroking motion. It didn’t matter that it was my dad, something stirred shamefully below my waist…
Then my dad turned, trying to set his computer on the bed, giving me the side angle view of his dick.
He closed the laptop first, nearly throwing it away from him onto the bed. He then hunched over. His hands pulled up his jeans in a frantic rush. He tried his best, but the panic of trying to conceal his erection in front of his daughter caused his zipper to get tangled up.
“Emily, give me a second, will you?”
“Sure, Dad,” I said, smiling.
I couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as I walked away.
“Um, so uh… what did you see?” My dad asked once he composed himself.
We both sat on the couch in the living room.
“Nothing at all Dad, just you punching that snake in your pants.”
My father’s face with beet red. I had to admit, though it was certainly awkward to walk in on my dad beating off to amateur porn, it could be worse. Not that I’m objectifying any member of my family, but at least he was pretty good looking. A full head of wavy, dirty blonde hair, a lean, muscular frame… plus that cock.
I blushed a little myself, I couldn’t get the image out of my head.
“Look, I’m sorry you had to see that – but what’s say we keep this incident from your mother. She’s stressed out enough as it is about taking the time away from work to go on this trip. I’d hate to spoil her vacation.”
I smirked at him. My dad always had the cavalier attitude, a sense of humor many found off-putting. It had rubbed off on me, and I couldn’t help but take the opportunity to needle him a little.
“Right, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how considerate you were being of Mom,” I started. “She’ll probably be glad that you finished that job all by yourself.”
“Em-” He started.
“No, no. I’m sure that particular packaged required some real heavy lifting,” I said. “Only I’m not sure how that blonde girl would be able to -“
Then I heard the sound of the door opening, my mother came in and the joke ended. Much as I enjoyed tormenting him, I was enough of a Daddy’s girl not to tattle. Besides, from my own limited experience, it seemed like the sort of thing every guy did when left alone.
“What are you doing here?” Dad asked.
“Drew… you won’t believe my day!” She said. “Sorry, hi Emily.”
She came over, giving me a hug.
“What’s happening?” Dad asked again. “You aren’t supposed to be home for another hour.”
I shot him a knowing glance. It seemed the old man had carved out a little masturbation groove into his schedule. With güvenilir bahis siteleri Mom turned the other way, he put one finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.
“Our boys,” She sighed, looking at me. “At least I have one angel…”
I squirmed a little, thinking about my internet history.
“What are they up to?”
“Good lord, where to start?” She sat down on the couch, looking exhausted. “Adam is failing four of his classes…”
“Four classes?!” Dad said. “He’s in his junior year. He’s going to fuck up that GPA.”
“Language!” Mom scolded. “And Drew, baby, I went with the easy fix first. You’re going to want to calm down before I keep going.”
“Okay,” Daddy growled.
It was a rare side of him, different than the playful, charming man he usually presented.
“Caleb got caught at school smoking marijuana…”
“They’ve suspended him,” She continued. “Thankfully, the principal is not going to be pressing charges but-“
“I’m going to string him up, I-“
“This is why I had them wait in the car,” Mom sighed.
“Okay, okay what about Evan?”
“Please calm down.”
Of course, no one who is actually calm ever needs to say it. My dad paced around the living room, his hands opening and closing into balled-up fists, looking as though he might smash the nearest son.
“Maybe Emily shouldn’t hear this one,” Mom said.
“Go ahead and tell me,” He said gruffly.
“Well, I don’t know how to say it, but there’s a picture of Evan doing….” She looked at me. “Inappropriate things. The photo has been shared throughout the school.”
I’d never seen Dad this angry. He cursed under his breath at first, his hands clutching against the side of his head as he sat down, quaking with a quiet sort of rage. I was scared to move, even though I’d done nothing wrong. Though it was completely different, I worried about my own pictures, what my dad would say if he knew that his daughter’s breasts were on display for the internet to see.
Someone was probably masturbating to me right now.
Whenever I thought about that, I couldn’t help but get a little excited.
“Is the girl okay?” He asked.
“She’s transferring to another school,” Mom said. “Apparently the teasing has become too much. The poor thing…”
“I’m going to kill him,” Dad fumed.
“Honey-Drew,” She called him by that stupid nickname as she stroked his hand. “I already called dibs on killing them…”
Despite everything, he let out a little laugh.
“I left them in the car with the child locks on,” Mom continued. “They’ll never escape. Especially not Adam, he’s too stupid. Our boy is even failing P.E..”
“What are we going to do with them,” Dad said. “It’s too late for adoption. Who would want those dumbassses?”
“Drew, be fair. More than just their butts are dumb. Give them credit, together they combined to create a whole collage of stupidity.”
“I’m just sorry you had to deal with this, I can’t imagine what that meeting with Roy was like…”
We had donated enough money to St. Francis, our combined Catholic Church/School, not to mention its college, that Daddy felt comfortable calling pretty much everyone by their first name.
“Let’s just say I didn’t leave feeling like the mother of the year.”
“You are for sitting through that,” Drew said. “Baby, you should have called me.”
She let out a chortle.
“I called, for all the good that does,” She said. “I guess you were busy with our daughter.”
My dad and I exchanged a glance, thankfully she didn’t notice.
“So what do we do with them?” Dad asked.
“Well I know you’ve been planning it for months, but they certainly can’t go to Vegas,” She said. “And neither can I.”
“No, honey, I’ll stay with them.”
“Honestly, it’s okay,” She said. “The tickets are nonrefundable. You’ll enjoy it more than me, and quite frankly I’m not sure my staff is up to the task while I’m gone.”
“Are you sure?”
“You deserve it,” She said. “Both of you do. Plus, you have four extra tickets. That’s perfect. Invite your brother and our niece, and a few of your poker buddies. I’m sure Emily will enjoy spending time with her cousin over her brothers anyway.”
“You want me to take a gambling addict to Vegas?” Dad said. “There’s an idea. While I am at it, any alcoholics I should take to wine country? Maybe there’s a diabetic who wants to meet Willy Wonka.”
“Just take away his money,” Mom answered like the solution was obvious.
“I don’t know… he’ll find a way,” Dad said.
“Your card tournament is a charity thing,” Mom said. “I thought you said it was just a 250 dollar donation. Sure they aren’t going to take his shirt to save the elephants?”
“I’d love for Katie to come,” I spoke up.
Both of them turned to me as though they’d forgotten I was in the room. They looked puzzled, and I realized I certainly didn’t count a decision-maker or even as a participant iddaa siteleri in this conversation.
I froze, unsure of myself, only then I remembered I did have a small piece of leverage.
“I don’t think Uncle Chuck will let Katie come by herself. He’s kind of overprotective,” I said, knowing that a closeness between fathers and daughters seemed to run in our family. “Are you sure you can’t figure something out? You were saying earlier than you owed me a favor…”
“What favor?” Mom asked.
“Just for doing so well during her first semester at school.”
My dad saved himself, spilling out the words a little too quickly.
“Of course,” Mom said absently. “I think you all should go. Just give Charles an allowance or something. It’s not like his gambling problems stops your weekly poker game.”
“Okay,” Dad said, looking at me. “But don’t think you can cash on that favor indefinitely.”
“Of course not, Daddy,” I beamed.
“It’s beautiful!” Katie said, twirling around our hotel room, her arms outstretched.
My cousin always made me imagine what Taylor Swift would look like without overstylizing every inch of her face. Actually, she unconsciously presented a natural beauty, not really needing much make-up to look stunning. She usually wore her blonde hair in braided pigtails, looking like some sexy farmer’s daughter.
Her frame was so different than mine. No one would have guessed we were cousins. Unlike my hourglass figure, Katie looked like a petite model. She’d always looked up to me. I knew from enough late-night sleepovers that she had been jealous of my body – I’d expressed the same sentiment. Her smaller sized breasts gave her the freedom to do a lot more, including going without a bra.
But something seemed different about her since we met up at the airport. Katie exuded an exuberant confidence that infected every interaction. She almost sparkled, bubbly without being childish, excited about everything and everyone. She flirted shamelessly, making friends with nearly every man she encountered.
Not that it was hard given what she was wearing. Her cut-offs barely covered the slender curve of her butt, stopping just short of her thighs. Whenever she bent over, I could just barely make out the bottom of her cheeks. Her crop-top covered her breasts, but the white top left her midriff completely exposed.
I couldn’t believe Uncle Chuck let her get away with it; he was usually so conservative. But she seemed to have finally finished wrapped him around her finger. He absolutely doted on her – not that she took advantage. Just that once in awhile, I would see his hand on her shoulder or her holding his hand.
Uncle Chuck even put his hands on her hips, holding her steady as she stored her luggage overheard. If I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed this was some sugar-daddy relationship. I knew it made the other men a little uncomfortable too. My dad kept looking down at his feet, or away out the window, trying to ignore Katie best he could.
My other uncles weren’t actually blood-related, just life-long friend from the police force. Uncle Terry look like the kind of imposing African American alpha male that might serve as muscle outside of some bar. In reality, he was a teddy bear, kowtowed by two daughters. Jeff was another matter, short with fiery-red hair and a crass sense of humor. While Terry often averted his eyes, Jeff openly ogled Katie, his eyes threatening to bulge out of their sockets, when she bent over in front of him, showing off the beginning of her thong.
Honestly, I could see why. There was the temptation to look up her shirt was overwhelming. The long-sleeve woolen white top nearly stopped at her breasts. Though I managed to direct my gaze at the floor the first time she slid past me on her way to the tiny bathroom, I couldn’t help but look up as our knees brushed again. I didn’t see much, just enough underboob to know she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Maybe it was the flight – a 4:00 AM redeye from Houston to Vegas that added to my incredulity. I never liked flying. And while I wasn’t sure she met airline dress codes, there were certainly other passengers wearing gym shorts, pajamas, and snuggies. Probably a little less revealing, but hey they weren’t 18-year-old hotties. As for the interactions between father and daughter, once I’d slept a little in our room, I’d written them off as nothing. Of course, they were a little closer. After all, my aunt Karen had died of cancer only a few years ago.
“This is amazing!” Katie repeated. “Look at this place!”
We were staying at one of the Casinos. But while Katie seemed still full of energy, I could have fallen asleep standing. The shuffling of rooms left Katie and I sharing one queen-sized bed that had been reserved for my parents so that the men could each have their own bed. Not that I minded, better than spending the night in the same bedroom as Adam or Evan.
“I just want to sleep,” I said.
“I don’t know if I can,” Katie said. “But I guess I should try. There’s a big poker night planned tonight – I couldn’t wait to try out my outfit.”
I slid out of my shorts, my t-shirt long enough to cover nearly all of my underwear. I pulled up the covers, sliding into the bed.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32